OF

DAVID COPPERFIELD.

15

"

God knows you have, ma'am," returned Peggotty.

"

Then how can you dare," said my mother-" you know

I

don't

mean

how can you dare, Peggotty, but how can you have the heart-to make me

so uncomfortable and say such bitter things to me, when you are well

aware that

I

haven't, out of this place, a single friend to turn to

!

"

a

The more 's the reason," returned Peggotty,

"

for saying that it

won't do.

No

!

That it won't do.

No

!

No price could make it do.

No

!

"-I

thought Peggotty would have thrown the candlestick away,

she was so emphatic with it.

"How can you be so aggravating," said my mother, shedding

more tears than before,

"

as to talk in such an unjust manner

!

How

can you go on as if it was

all

settled and arranged, Peggotty, when

I

tell

you over and over again, you cruel thing, that beyond the commonest

civilities nothing has passed! You talk of admiration. What am

I

to do

?

If people are so silly as to indulge the sentiment, is it my fault

?

What am

I

to do,

I

ask you? Would you wish me to shave my head

and black my face, or disfigure myself with a burn, or a scald, or something

of that sort

?

I

dare say you would, Peggotty.

I

dare say you 'd quite

enjoy it."

Peggotty seemed to take this aspersion very much to heart,

I

thought.

"And my dear boy," cried my mother, coming to the elbow-chair in

which

I

was, and caressing me, "my own little Davy

!

Is it to be hinted

to me that

I

am wanting in affection for my precious treasure, the dearest

little fellow that ever was

!

"

Nobody never went and hinted no such a thing," said Peggotty.

"You did, Peggotty

!

"

returned my mother.

"

You know you did.

What else was it possible to infer from what you said, you unkind creature,

when you know as well as

I

do, that on his account only last quarter

I

wouldn't buy myself a new parasol, though that old green one is frayed

the whole way up, and the fringe is perfectly mangy. You know it is,

Peggotty.

You can't deny

it."

Then, turning affectionately to me, with

her cheek against mine,

"

Am

I

a naughty mama to you, Davy

?

Am

I

a

nasty, cruel, selfish, bad mama

?

Say

I

am, my child

;

say 'yes

;'

dear boy,

and Peggotty will love you, and Peggotty's love is a great deal better

than mine, Davy.

I

dont love you at

all,

do

I?

"

At this, we all fell a-crying together.

I

think

I

was the loudest of the

party, but

I

am sure we were all sincere about it.

I

was quite heart-

broken myself, and am afraid that in the first transports of wounded ten-

derness

I

called Peggotty a

"

Beast." That honest creature was in deep

aflhction,

I

remember, and must have become quite buttonless on the

occasion; for a little volley of those explosives went off, when, after

having made it up with my mother, she kneeled down by the

elbow-

chair, and made it up with me.

We went to bed greatly dejected. My sobs kept waking me, for a long

time; and when one very strong sob quite hoisted me up in bed,

I

found

my mother sitting on the coverlet, and leaning over me.

I

fell asleep in

her arms, after that, and slept soundly.

Whether it was the following Sunday when

I

saw the gentleman again,

or whether there was any greater lapse of time before he reappeared,

I

16

THE

PERSONAL

HISTORY

AND EXPERIENCE

cannot recal.

I

don't profess to be clear about dates.

But there he was,

in church, and he walked home with us afterwards.

He came in, too, to

look at a famous geranium we had, in the parlor-window.

It did not

appear to me that he took much notice of it, but before he went he asked

my mother to give him a bit of the blossom. She begged him to choose

it for himself, but he refused to do that-I could not understand

why-

so she plucked it for him, and gave it into his hand. He said he would

never, never, part with it any more

;

and

I

thought he must be quite a fool

not to know that it would fall to pieces in a day or two.

Peggotty began to be less with us, of an evening, than she had always

been. My mother deferred to her very much-more

than usual, it occurred

to me-and we were all three excellent friends; still we were different

from what we used to be, and were not so comfortable among our-

selves. Sometimes

I

fancied that Peggotty perhaps objected to my

mother's wearing all the pretty dresses she had in her drawers, or to her

going so often to visit at that neighbour's; but

I

couldn't, to my

satisfaction, make out how it was.

Gradually,

I

became used to seeing the gentleman with the black

whiskers.

I

liked him no better than at first, and had the same uneasy

jealousy of him; but if

I

had any reason for it beyond a child's instinctive

dislike, and a general idea that Peggotty and

I

could make much of my

mother without any help, it certainly was not

the

reason that

I

might have

found if

I

had been older. No such thing came into my mind, or near

it.

I

could observe, in little pieces, as it were

;

but as to making a net of

a number of these pieces, and catching anybody in it, that was, as

yet, beyond me.

One autumn morning

I

was with my mother in the front garden, when

Mr. Murdstone-I knew him by that name now-came by, on horseback.

He reined up his horse to salute my mother, and said he was going to

Lowestoft to see some friends who were there with a yacht, and

merrily proposed to take me on the saddle before him if

I

would like the

ride.

The air was so clear and pleasant, and the horse seemed to like the idea

of the ride so much himself, as he stood snorting and pawing at the

garden-gate, that

I

had

a

great desire to go. So

I

was sent up-stairs to

Peggotty to be made spruce

;

and in the meantime Mr. Murdstone dis-

mounted, and, with his horse's bridle drawn over his arm, walked slowly

up and down on the outer side of the sweetbriar fence, while my mother

walked slowly up and down on the inner to keep him company.

I

recol-

lect Peggotty and

I

peeping out at them from my little window;

I

recol-

lect how closely they appeared to be examining the sweetbriar between

them, as they strolled along

;

and how, from being in a perfectly angelic

temper, Peggotty turned cross in a moment, and brushed my hair the

wrong way, excessively hard.

Mr. Murdstone and

I

were soon off, and trotting along on the green

turf

by

the side of the road. He held me quite easily with one arm,

and

I

don't think

I

was restless usually; but

I

could not make up my

mind to sit in front of him without turning my head sometimes, and

looking up in his face. He had that kind of shallow black eye-I want

OF

DAVID

COPPERFIELD.

a better word to express an eye that has no depth in it to be looked into-

which, when it is abstracted, seems from some peculiarity of light to be dis-

figured, for a moment at a time, by a cast. Several times when

I

glanced

at him,

I

observed that appearance with a sort of awe, and wondered what

he was thinking about so closely. His hair and whiskers were blacker

and thicker, looked at so near, than even

I

had given them credit for

being.

A

squareness about the lower part of his face, and the dotted

indication of the strong black beard he shaved close every day, reminded me

of the wax-work that had travelled into our neighbourhood some half-a-

year before. This, his regular eyebrows, and the rich white, and black,

and brown, of his complexion- confound his complexion, and his

memory !-made me think him,

in spite of my misgivings, a very

handsome man.

I

have no doubt that my poor dear mother thought

him so too.

We went to an hotel by the sea, where two gentlemen were smoking

cigars

in

a room by themselves. Each of them was lying on at least four

chairs, and had a large rough jacket on. In a corner was a heap of coats

and boat-cloaks, and a flag, all bundled up together.

They both rolled on to their feet in an untidy sort of manner when

we came

in,

and said

"

Halloa, Murdstone! We thought you were

dead

!

"

"Not yet," said Mr. Murdstone.

"

And who's this shaver?

"

said one of the gentlemen, taking hold

of me.

"

That's Davy," returned Mr. Murdstone.

"

Davy who

?

"

said the gentleman.

"

Jones

?

"

Copperfield," said

Mr.

Murdstone.

"

What

!

Bewitching Mrs. Copperfield's incumbrance

?

"

cried the

gentleman.

"

The pretty little widow

?

"

Quinion," said

Mr.

Murdstone,

"

take care, if you please. Somebody's

sharp."

"

Who is

?

"

asked the gentleman, laughing.

I

looked up, quickly; being curious to know.

"

Only Brooks of Sheffield," said Mr. Murdstone.

I

was quite relieved to find it was only Brooks of Sheffield; for, as

first,

I

really thought it was

I.

There seemed to be something very comical in the reputation of

Mr.

Brooks of Sheffield, for both the gentlemen laughed heartily when he

was mentioned, and

Mr.

Murdstone was

a

good deal amused also. After

some laughing, the gentleman whom he had called Quinion, said

:

"And what is the opinion of Brooks of Sheffield, in reference to the

projected business

?

"

Why,

I

don't know that Brooks understands much about

it

at pre-

sent," replied Mr.

AEnrdstone; "but he is not generally favourable,

I

believe."

There was

more laughter at this, and Mr. Quinion said he would ring

the bell for some sherry in which to drink to Brooks. This he did;

and when the wine came, he made me have a little, with a biscuit,

an$

before

I

drank it, stand up and say "Confusion to Brooks of Sheffield

!

C

18

THE

PERSONAL

HISTORY

AND

EXPERIENCE

The toast was received with great applause, and such hearty laughter that

it made me laugh too; at which they laughed the more. In short, we

quite enjoyed ourselves.

We walked about on the cliff after that, and sat on the grass, and

looked at things through a telescope-I could make out nothing myself

when it was put to my eye, but

I

pretended

I

could-and then we came

back to the hotel to an early dinner. All the time we were out, the two

gentlemen smoked incessantly-which,

I

thought, if

I

might judge from the

smell of their roughcoats, they must have been doing, ever since the

coatshad

first come home from the tailor's.

I

must not forget that we went on

board the yacht, where they all three descended into the cabin, and were busy

with some papers.

I

saw them quite hard at work, when

I

looked down

through the open skylight. They left me, during this time, with a very nice

man with a very large head of red hair and a very small shiny hat upon it,

who had got a cross-barred shirt or waistcoat on, with

"

Skylark

"

in capital

letters across the chest.

I

thought it was his name; and that as he lived

on board ship and hadn't a street-door to put his name on, he put it

there instead; but when

I

called him Mr. Skylark, he said it meant the

vessel.

I

observed all day that Mr. Murdstone was graver and steadier than the

two gentlemen. They were very gay and careless.

They joked freely with

one another, but seldom with him. It appeared to me that he was more

clever and cold than they were, and that they regarded him with some-

thing of my own feeling.

I

remarked that once or twice when Mr.

Quinion was talking, he looked at Mr. Murdstone sideways, as if to make

sure of his not being displeased

;

and that once when Mr. Passnidge (the

other gentleman) was in high spirits, he trod upon his foot, and gave him

a secret caution with his eyes, to observe Mr.

&!turdstone, who was sitting

stern and silent. Nor do

I

recollect that Mr. Murdstone laughed at all

that day, except at the Sheffield joke-and that, by the by, was his

own.

MTe went home early in the evening. It was a very fine evening, and

my mother and he had another stroll by the sweet-briar, while

I

was sent

in to get my tea, When he was gone, my mother asked me all about the

day

I

had had, and what they had said and done.

I

mentioned what they

had said about her, and she laughed, and told me they were impudent

fellows who talked nonsense-but

I

knew it pleased her.

I

knew it quite

as

well as

I

know it now.

I

took the opportunity of asking if she was

at all acquainted with

Nr. Brooks of Sheffield, but she answered

No, only she supposed he must be a manufacturer in the knife and fork

way.

Can

I

say of her face-altered as

I

have reason to remember it,

perished as

I

know it is-that it is gone, when here it comes before me at

this instant, as distinct as any face that

I

may choose to look on in a

crowded street? Can

I

say of her innocent and girlish beauty, that it

faded, and was no more, when its breath falls on my cheek now, as it fell

that night

?

Can

I

say she ever changed, when my remembrance brings

her back to life, thus only

;

and, truer to its loving youth than

I

have been,

or man ever is, still holds fast what it cherished then?

OF

DAVID

COPPERFIELD.

19

I

write of her just as she was when

I

had gone to bed after this talk,

and she came to bid me good night. She kneeled

down playfully by the

side of the bed, and laying her chin upon her hands, and laughing,

said

:

'c

What was it they said, Davy

?

Tell me again.

I

can't believe

it."

"

'

Bewitching-'

"

I

began.

My mother put her hands upon her lips to stop me.

"

It

was never bewitching," she said, laughing.

'<

It

never could have

been bewitching, Davy.

Now

I

know it wasn't

!"

"Yes it was. 'Bewitching Mrs. Copperfield,"'

I

repeated stoutly.

"

And 'pretty.'

"

No no, it was never pretty. Not pretty," interposed

my

mother,

laying her fingers on my lips again.

"

Yes it was.

'

Pretty little widow.'

"

What foolish, impudent creatures

!

"

cried my mother, laughing and

covering

her face. "What ridiculous men

!

An't they? Davy dear-"

"

Well, Ma."

"Don't tell Peggotty

;

she might be angry with them.

I

am dreadfully

angry with them myself; but

I

would rather Peggotty didn't know."

I

promised, of course

;

and we kissed one another over and over again,

and

I

soon fell fast asleep.

It seems to me, at this distance of time, as if it were the next day when

Peggotty broached the striking and adventurous proposition

I

am about to

mention

;

but it was probably about two months afterwards.

We were sitting as before, one evening (when my mother was out

as before), in company with the stocking and the yard measure, and the

bit of wax, and the box with Saint Paul's on the lid, and the crocodile

book, when Peggotty, after looking at me several times, and opening

her mouth as if she were going to speak, without doing it-which

I

thought was merely gaping, or

I

should have been rather alarmed-said

coaxingly

:

"Master Davy, how should you like to go along with me and spend

a

fortnight at my brothcr's at Yarmouth? Wouldn't

tAat

be a treat?

"

"Is your brother an agreeable man, Peggotty?

"

I

enquired, pro-

visionally.

"

Oh what an agreeable man he is

!

"

cried Peggotty, holding up her

hands.

"Then there's the sea; and the boats and ships; and the

fishermen

;

and the beach

;

and Am to play with-"

Peggotty meant her nephew Ham, mentioned in my first chapter

;ut

she spoke of him as a morsel of English Grammar.

I

was flushed by her summary of delights, and replied that it woula

indeed be a treat, but what would my mother say?

"Why then

I'll as good as bet a guinea," said Peggotty, intent uponmy

face,

"

that she '11 let us go.

I

'11 ask her, if you like, as soon as ever she

comes home. There now

!

"

But what 's she to do while we 're away

?

"

said

I,

putting my small

elbows on the table to argue the point.

"

She can 't live by herself."

If Peggotty were looking for a hole, all

of

a sudden, in the heel of that

stocking, it must have been a very little one indeed, and not worth

darning.

c

2

THE PERSONAL HISTORY AND EXPERIENCE

"

I

say

!

Peggotty

!

She can

't

live by herself, you know."

"

Oh bless you!

"

said Peggotty, looking at me again at last. "Don't

you know?

She's going to stay for a fortnight with Mrs.

Grayper.

Mrs. Grayper's going to have a lot of company."

Oh

!

If that was it,

I

was quite ready to go.

I

waited, in the utmost

impatience, until my mother came home from Mrs. Grayper's (for

it

was

that identical neighbour), to ascertain if we could get leave to carry out

this great idea. Without being nearly so much surprised as

I

had expected,

my mother entered into it readily; and it was all arranged that night, and

my board and lodging during the visit were to be paid for.

The day soon came for our going. It was such an early day that it

came soon, even to me, who was in a fever of expectation, and half afraid

that an earthquake or a fiery mountain, or some other great

convulsioil of

nature, might interpose to stop the expedition. We were to go in a

carrier's cart, which departed in the morning after breakfast.

I

would

have given any money to have been allowed to wrap myself up over-night,

and sleep in my hat and boots.

It touches me nearly now, although

I

tell it lightly, to recollect how

eager

I

was to leave my happy home

;

to think how little

I

suspected what

I

did leave for ever.

I

am glad to recollect that when the carrier's cart was at the gate, and

my mother stood there kissing me, a grateful fondness for her and for the

old place

I

had never turned my back upon before, made me cry.

I

am

glad to know that my mother cried too, and that

I

felt her heart beat

against mine.

I

am glad to recollect that when the carrier began to move, my mother

ran out at the gate, and called to him to stop, that she might kiss me

once more.

I

am glad to dwell upon the earnestness and love with which

she lifted up her face to mine, and did so.

As we left her standing in the road, Mr. Murdstone came up to where

she was, and seemed to expostulate with her for being so moved.

I

was

looking

back round the awning of the cart, and wondered what business it

was of his. Peggotty, who was also looking back on the other side,

seemed anything but satisfied

;

as the face she brought back into the cart

denoted.

I

sat looking at Peggotty for some time, in

a

reverie on this supposi-

titious case

:

whether,

if

she were employed to lose me like the boy

in

the fairy tale,

I

should be able to track my way home again by the buttons

she would shed.

OF

DAVID

COPPERFIELD.

CHAPTER

111.

I

HATE

A

CHANGE.

THE

carrier's horse was the laziest horse in the world,

I

should hope,

and shuffled along, with his head down, as if he liked to keep the people

waiting to whom the packages were directed.

I

fancied, indeed, that he

sometimes chuckled audibly over this reflection, but the carrier said he

was only troubled with a cough.

The carrier had a way of keeping his head down, like his horse, and of

drooping sleepily forward as he drove, with one of his arms on each of his

knees.

I

say "drove," but it struck me that the cart would have gone

to Yarmouth quite as well without him, for the horse did all that

;

and as

to conversation, he had no idea of it

but whistling.

Peggotty had a basket of refreshments on her knee, which would

have lasted us out handsomely, if we had been going to London by the

same conveyance.

We ate a good deal, and slept a good deal. Peggotty

always went to sleep with her chin upon the handle of the basket, her

hold of which never relaxed; and

I

could not have believed unless

I

had

heard her do it, that one defenceless woman could have snored so

much.

We made so many deviations up and down lanes, and were such a

long time delivering a bedstead at

a

public-house, and calling at other

places, that

I

was quite tired, and very glad, when we saw Yarmouth.

It looked rather spongey and soppy,

I

thought, as

I

carried my eye

over the great dull waste that lay across the river; and

I

could not

help wondering, if the world

were really as round as my geography-

book said, how any part of it came to be so flat. But

I

reflected that

Yarmouth might be situated at one of the poles; which would account

for it.

As we drew a little nearer, and saw the whole adjacent prospect lying

a straight low line under the sky,

I

hinted to Peggotty that a mound

or so might have improved it; and also that if the land had been a little

more separated from the sea, and the town and the tide had not been

quite so much mixed up, like toast and water, it would have been nicer.

But Peggotty said, with greater emphasis than usual, that we must take

things as we found them, and that, for her part, she was proud to call

herself a Yarmouth Bloater.

When we got into the street (which was strange enough to me), and

smelt the fish, and pitch, and oakum, and tar, and saw the sailors

walking about, and the carts jingling up and down over the stones,

I

felt

that

I

had done so busy a place an injustice

;

and said as much to Peg-

gotty,

who heard my expressions of delight with great complacency, and

told me it was well known

(I

suppose to those who had the good fortune

OF

DAVID

COPPERFIELD.

23

there were some common colored pictures, framed and glazed, of scripture

subjects

;

such as

I

have never seen since in the hands of pedlars, without

seeing the whole interior of Peggotty's brother's house again, at one view.

Abraham in red going to sacrifice Isaac in blue, and Daniel in yellow cast

into a den of green lions, were the most prominent of these. Over the

little mantel-shelf, was a picture of

the Sarah Jane lugger, built at

Sunderland, with a real little wooden stern stuck on to it; a work of art,

combining composition with carpentery, which

I

considered to be one of

the most enviable possessions that the world could afford. There were

some hooks in the beams of the ceiling, the use of which

I

did not divine

then; and some lockers and boxes and conveniences of that sort, which

served for seats and eked out the chairs.

All this,

I

saw in the first glance after

I

crossed the threshold-child-

like, according to my theory-and then Peggotty opened a little door and

showed me my bedroom. It was the completest and most desirable

bedroom ever seen-in the stern of the vessel

;

with a little window, where

the rudder used to go through; a little looking-glass, just the right

height for me, nailed against the wall, and framed with oyster-shells

;

a

little bed, which

there was just room enough to get into; and a nosegay

of seaweed in

a

blue mug on the table. The walls were whitewashed as

white as milk, and the patchwork counterpane made my eyes quite ache

with its brightness. One thing

I

particularly noticed in this delightful

house, was the smell of fish

;

which was so searching, that when

I

took

out my pocket-handkerchief to wipe my nose,

I

found it smelt exactly as

if it had wrapped up a lobster. On my imparting this discovery

in confidence to Peggotty, she informed me that her brother dealt in

lobsters, crabs, and crawfish

;

and

I

afterwards found that a heap of these

creatures, in

a

state of wonderful conglomeration with one another,

and never leaving off pinching whatever they laid hold of, were usually

to be found in a little wooden outhouse where the pots and kettles were

kept.

We were welcomed by a very civil

woman in a white apron, whom

I

had seen curtseying at the door when

I

was on Ham's back,

about a

quarter of a mile off. Likewise by a most beautiful little

girl (or

I

thought her so) with a necklace of blue beads on, who

wouldn't let me kiss her when

I

offered to, but ran away and hid herself.

By and by, when we had dined in a sumptuous manner off boiled dabs,

melted butter, and potatoes, with a chop for me, a hairy man with

a very good-natured face came home.

As he called Peggotty "Lass,"

and gave her a hearty smack on the cheek,

I

had no doubt, from the

general propriety of her conduct, that he was her brother; and so he

turned out-being presently introduced to me as Mr. Peggotty, the

master of the house.

"

Glad to see you, sir," said

Mr.

Peggotty.

"You'll find us rough,

sir, but you

'11 find us ready."

I

thanked him, and replied that

I

was sure

I

should be happy in such

a

delightful place.

"

How's your Ma, sir," said Mr. Peggotty. "Did you leave her

pretty jolly

?

"

THE

PERSONAL

HISTORY

AXD

EXPERIENCE

I

gave Mr. Peggotty to understand that she was as jolly as

I

could

wish, and that she desired her compliments-which was a polite fiction

on my part.

"

I

'm much obleeged to her,

I

'm sure," said Mr. Peggotty.

cr

Well

sir, if you can make out here, fur a

fortnut, 'long wi' her," nodding at

his

sister,

"

and Ham, and little Em'ly, we shall be proud of your

company."

Having done the honors of his house in this hospitable manner,

Mr. Peggotty went out to wash himself in a kettleful of hot water, remarking

that

'I

cold would never get

his

muck

off."

He soon returned, greatly

improved in appearance

;

but so rubicund, that

I

couldn't help thinking

his face had this in common with the lobsters, crabs, and crawfish,-that

it went into the hot water very black,

and came out very red.

After tea, when the door was shut and all was made snug (the nights

being cold and misty now), it seemed to me the most delicious retreat

that the imagination of man could conceive. To hear the wind getting

up out at sea, to know that the fog was creeping over the desolate flat

outside, and to look at the fire, and think that there was no house near

but this one, and this one a boat, was like enchantment. Little Em'ly

had overcome her shyness, and was sitting by my side upon the lowest

and least of the lockers, which was just large enough for us two, and just

fitted into the chimney corner. Mrs. Peggotty with the white apron, was

knitting on the opposite side of the fire. Peggotty at her needle-work

was as much at home with Saint Paul's and the bit of wax-candle, as if

they had never known any other roof. Ham, who had been giving me

my first lesson in all-fours, was trying to recollect a scheme of telling

fortunes with the dirty cards, and was printing off fishy impressions of his

thumb on all the cards he turned. Mr. Peggotty was smoking his pipe.

I

felt it was a time for conversation and confidence.

"

Mr. Peggotty

!

"

says

I.

"Sir," says he.

"

Did you give your son the name of Ham, because you lived in a sort

of ark

?

"

Mr. Peggotty seemed to think it a deep idea, but answered

:

"

No, sir.

I

never giv him no name."

"Who gave him that name, then?

"

said

I,

putting question number

two of the catechism to Mr. Peggotty.

"Why, sir, his father giv it him," said

Mr.

Peggotty.

"

I

thought you were his father

!

"

My brother Joe was

his

father," said

Mr.

Peggotty.

"

Dead, Mr. Peggotty

?

"

I

hinted, after a respectful pause.

"

Drowndead," said Mr. Peggotty.

I

was very much surprised that

Mr.

Peggotty was not Ham's father,

and began to wonder whether

I

was mistaken about his relationship to

anybody else there.

I

was so curious to know, that

I

made up my mind

to have it out with Mr. Peggotty.

"

Little Em'ly,"

I

said, glancing at her. "She is your daughter, isn

't

she, Mr. Peggotty

?

"

No, sir.

My brother in law, Tom, was

her

father."